


infinitesimal

by sunstrain (uhright)



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Character Death, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 12:17:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16137074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uhright/pseuds/sunstrain
Summary: Androids have a relatively infinite lifespan. Humans don't. Connor experiences that harsh reality over and over again.





	infinitesimal

**Author's Note:**

> prompt from @deck-heart on my tumblr:
> 
> "So this is just a lil inspiration. I've been reading this book that deals with reincarnation and soulmates then I wondered how it would fit into the dbh universe. Think about it, you got androids that can sustain themselves for hundreds of years, some fall inlove with humans, and maybe a hundred years later they find the exact face just roaming the streets having no clue about the memories of their previous life. The only way to "gain" back the memories is to for them to fall inlove once more"

The first time you pass away (due to heart complications from old age), Connor locks his feelings inside a metal box and sleeps for days on end. It’s the first time he hates feeling. Despises it to its very core because now you’re gone and all that’s left is the ring he gave you when you married. A few shirts that he stores in a bottom drawer so your scent lingers on them for months afterward. Keeps your perfume stashed away and, every so often, sprays it on his neck so he can be comforted by your presence. His partners say that he smells like a girl. Connor doesn’t mind.

* * *

Thirty years later, he finds you. A receptionist at a local animal clinic. You offer him a beautiful smile and sneak a treat to Sumo Jr. when your boss isn’t looking. Sitting before him in all your imperfect beauty, and you _don’t even remember him._ He wants to rip his heart out. Maybe jump off a bridge someplace nearby.

And then you make small talk. Ask him about his job, where he lives, if he was around during the revolution. The last question makes him grit his teeth to prevent what he actually wants to say.

_Of course I was. You were there with me._

But he forces a smile and answers your question as if he doesn’t want to hold you in his arms again and never let you out of his sight.

You have the same witty sense of humor he always loved, the same blood type, the same _genetic make-up._ It’s you in the flesh and bone and soul and heart and when you offer him a candy (94% water, 3% strawberry flavoring, 1% heartache), he accepts it with a grateful smile and turns to leave.

“I’m sorry, have I seen you before? You look really familiar.”

Connor almost chokes on the candy in his mouth, not because of the question, but in the gentle, curious way you smile at him.

**> SCANNING SYMPTOMS…. racing thirium pump, malfunction in motion wiring, rise in body temperature….**

**> COMPLETE**

**_EMOTION: LOVE_ **

“I work at the Detroit Police Department, remember? You might have seen me on the news.” He forces a tiny grin, insides twisting up the longer he looks at you. As if you turned back time, young as the day you first met.

“Maybe,” you ponder, quickly greet a customer as they step up to the counter.

Connor takes his leave.

A few days later, he leans over your cold body. Finds himself unable to look at the situation objectively, unable to relive your last moments of fear to figure out what exactly happened.

**STRESS LEVEL: 77%**

Murdered in your own apartment by… _someone._

**STRESS LEVEL: 84%**

He would find out who killed you—

**STRESS LEVEL: 93%**

and there would be no justice.

* * *

Twenty-five years later, he finds you. The owner of a local music and drink establishment. Bar, to put it simply.

You always did love music.

A quick thought passes of _Hank would have enjoyed this_ but he’s out there somewhere, living a nice life and being his grumpy but loveable self.

The thought makes Connor smile, and then he looks up.

You’re watching him from across the room, effectively ignoring customers all pining for your attention, and all he wants to do is drop to his knees and cry.

A cruel twist of fate. Being immortal yet watching your love die _over and over and over and over—_

The song ends and he finds the courage to step up to the counter. You chat as you make drinks.

“You don’t look like the type that enjoys this kind of music.”

“I usually don’t. But I enjoy trying new things.”

You raise both brows in appreciation, a look he’s committed permanently to memory, yet it still takes his breath away.

_Don’t let this moment pass you by, Connor. Not like last time._

“Would you like to see a movie next weekend?”

With a smile as precious as diamonds, you offer him a gentle, “I would _love_ that.”

Seven months later, he gets a frantic call from you. His stomach drops.

“What’s wrong?”

“Connor. Connor! I remember you! Jesus Christ, I can’t believe I forgot _you._ And the revolution and Hank and—fuck, I’m so sorry that it took me so long.”

He allows the tears to fall. Almost two hundred years have passed, yet he still remembers those times. Still remembers _you._

“How did it happen?”

Your tear-filled laughter rings melodic into his ear. “Today I realized that I’m in love with you. Again.”

**Author's Note:**

> if u wanna follow my blog it's
> 
> catchingdeviants.tumblr.com


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